


Little Lost Girl

by kibasniper



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Confusion, Developing Friendships, During Canon, Fear, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Missing Scene, Mystery, Reconciliation, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: It's been more than an hour since she's last seen any of her fellow campers. Elka investigates for her own reasons and comes across the source of something she wishes she had seen much sooner.





	1. Chapter 1

As she sits in the lodge, her fingers drumming against the chipped wood of the picnic bench, Elka waits. She keeps her attention fixed on the double doors in front of her, her ears alert to any creaking hinges from the back exit. All she hears is her own tapping, steady, monotonous, and dull. Looking over her shoulder, she finds Phoebe’s drums and Quentin’s turntables waiting for them to return and create new music so she can clap along like she had done during last year’s talent show.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spots Phoebe’s drums and Quentin’s turntables on the stage. A fine layer of dust had already begun to coat them. Moths drift over to the scarf Quentin had draped over the cardboard box used to hoist himself up, fluttering above it and resting within the worn cotton. A note in Phoebe’s handwriting addresses the campers promising to return within the hour, and if they mess with their instruments, she’d involve Milla, but the crossed out phrases mentioning any kind of burning did not go unnoticed by Elka.

She believes the hour has long passed. She knows for a fact they would never leave their instruments unattended after the incident unless they needed to attend class. What Bobby and Benny did two years ago still makes her shiver, and she shoves the memory to the back of her mind.

The television next door continues murmuring and catches her attention. Occasional static crackles, spliced with accents she can’t place. Even though she had already checked twice now, she stands up and goes over. Her footsteps are a mere pitter patter, and guiding herself up the stairs, she takes in a short breath before calling out Nils’ name.

Surveying the dim interior, she huffs out a sigh. The bean bags are creased and lopsided. Torn coloring paper is strewn across the carpet, and broken crayons are scattered everywhere. She comes ambles around, eyeing the Western playing, the whizzing gunshots far louder than she expected. Rubbing her forearms, Elka turns on her heels and stomps out, trying to ignore the chill trickling down her spine.

With no reason to stay inside, she pulls herself out of the lodge. On the balcony, she finds Kitty and Franke’s quilt. She edges around it, watching a few ants hurry across the violet patterns. She kneels by the box they used for their thread. Spotting the needles, she wonders why they would bother having them when their telekinesis is delicate enough to make as many friendship bracelets as they wanted.

Elka plucks one of the leftover bracelets. The unfurling orange yarn had been twisted into a knot while the red strands hung towards the ground. She rubs her forefinger and thumb between the coarse material before flicking it into the box. 

Bobby and Benny would have had a field day tossing their stuff into the lake just like they had done last year. Dousing the thread in mud or breaking the needles, it’s exactly what they should’ve been doing. Otherwise, Kitty would have made absolutely certain her pristine belongings were locked up in the advanced campers’ cabin away from prying eyes and telekinetic hands.

And yet, Bobby and Benny hadn’t taken up such an opportunity while Kitty and Franke abandoned their bracelets and quilt.

Standing up, Elka squints at the roof. Chloe isn’t there anymore, but she assumes they left for the woods after their levitation class. That little alien, with their mind fixed on space, always seemed to be searching for higher places just like Clem and Crystal. She wonders if that’s simply the case, but the wind hissing across the barren campgrounds scorns her.

She makes her way towards the bridge. It sways underneath her, and she grips the rope railing. Her hands itch as she drags herself along, her palms feeling as if they would blister, but she continues, her thoughts twisting as she ponders a strange conspiracy.

In the past hour and a half, she couldn’t find anyone in camp. She searched high and low for any camper to discuss the cruel way Melvin and James had treated her. They had left two very harsh notes about her on the bulletin board, calling her a filly of all things! It wasn’t like she had actually done anything wrong. They were the ones who mistreated her, and she knew her friends would take her side, consoling her as she lamented her choice in boys.

But as she looked, calling out names and avoiding telekinetic claws from disturbed bears, no one answered. Crystal wasn’t in the girls’ cabin or on the roof. Milka wasn’t canoodling with her new boyfriend in the caves. Phoebe wasn’t playing her drums or taking supplementary classes with Milla. From the lake, to the forest, and all the way back to the cabin area, she had realized in her search that no one was around. They were gone like ghosts out of the corners of her eyes, and unless they’re all playing some sort of invisible joke on her, then she’s not laughing.

She leaps off the bridge, wobbling slightly as she comes in contact with steady ground. One glance around the cabin area makes her sigh. Like the many other places she inspected, no one is around. She storms over to each cabin and pokes her head inside. Empty beds, wrinkled blankets, leftover granola bar wrappers, discarded backpacks, the usual suspects greet her. When she enters the girls’ cabin, she’s hit with the faint scent of Franke’s perfume, a mixture of roses and strawberries, a gift from Kitty.

Elka sits on her bed, which groans under her weight. The cheap thing can hardly be called a mattress as she glares at the sharp coils springing up through a small hole by her feet. Drawing her knees to her chest, she rubs her temples, sighs, and contemplates.

She knew Whispering Rock was going to have a tragedy this time around. It all started with her revelation about her parents’ imminent disaster. One of them would cheat, and off she was shipped to camp without a second thing. 

Her worries only heightened when she passed through the rusted gates. An incomprehensible vision had flashed across eyes like the reflection of a television screen. All she saw was a looming figure cloaked in shadows, a three-pronged claw spewing out green particles, and, for some unfathomable reason, a cracked bathtub levitating in a sky surrounded by thick purple thorns, but her parents had already started their car and off they went, leaving her shaken in the middle of the parking car.

Nothing about it made sense. She didn’t know what to make of it, especially since she had other problems. Dumping Nils, dating James, dealing with Melvin, trying to win back Nils, it all pushed her vision to the back of her mind, forgotten until now.

She tucks her thumb into her palm and squeezes. Sucking down a breath, she forces herself off her bed and claps her cheeks. She has no time to be moping around when Nils is missing or messing around with other girls. She knows she’ll find him eventually, her foresight promising their eventual union, but the stillness of Whispering Rock creeps into her skin and makes her shudder.

Leaving her cabin, she grimaces as a groan slips through the air. She jerks her head around, twirling her finger through a lock of blonde hair before discerning the sound is coming from the speakers. She watches them vibrate as they spit out another tired, disgruntled hum. Noticing an orange hue beginning to decorate the sky, she swallows and knows the source of those strange sounds all too well.

Much to her chagrin, she comes across him after trudging up his treehouse steps. Oleander is slouched over at his desk. Too much drool dribbles over his squished cheek, and she wrinkles her nose, wishing she hadn’t seen such a disgusting sight. She bites her tongue and approaches, careful to not startle him. She knows he would lash out at any camper who interrupted his nap, snarling that he would throw them into the GPC until the end of summer, a threat she knew why Bobby took so seriously.

“Coach?” she whispers and pokes his shoulder. She rolls her eyes when he sniffs, his mustache appearing like it had twitched. “Oh, my God. Hey, Coach Oleander? Hello?”

Another mumble, sniff, and what sounds like a whimper. Elka drags her hand down her face and grumbles.

“Oh, I don’t have time for this. Coach, wake up,” she hisses, digging her finger into his neck.

Elka recoils as he flips his head up, his eyes widening and teeth chattering like pounding cymbals. Oleander sucks down a breath, his hands racing along his neck and rubbing the spot where she had jabbed him. He brings his gloved hands to his mouth as if to bite down on his fingernails only to spot Elka managing a lopsided grin. She steps backwards, watching him raise his fist and twist his features into a snarl, and she quickly counts how many steps she would take before reaching the ramp in case she has to bolt.

“Cadet Doom,” he says as if seeing her for the first time, “what do you want?”

She wraps her arms behind her back and rocks on her heels. “Um, so, I have a quick question. I was wondering if you saw Nils. Maybe Crystal or Phoebe-”

“And you interrupted my scheming-er, mandatory and absolutely necessary rest to ask that?” He smacks his hand on his desk, wincing when he comes in contact with his own drool. Wiping it against his thigh, he shakes his head. “You know how big Whispering Rock is. They’re probably out playing tag or getting lessons from that egghead Nein.” He hums and scratches his chin, leaning towards her. “Hey, shouldn’t you be in levitation class?”

“Uh, no, I got that badge today. Also, Milla and Sasha left a note saying they were needed for something outside of camp.” She grips her hips. “Besides, I’ve looked everywhere. No one’s around.”

She thinks he looks perplexed for a moment, but maybe it’s the way the sun filters in on his face and forces his eyes into a squint. He fiddles with the hem of his uniform, saying, “It’s that late already, huh?” He jumps off his chair and waddles past her without waiting for an answer.

She watches him survey the camp. He seems to be scanning for any sign of other campers. She glances back at the sky, watching the blue hues melt and give way to a line of vibrant straw yellow on the edge of the horizon, the color reminding her of Nils’ hair. Her heart squeezes, blending with the dull throb in the back of her skull, and frowning, she crosses her arms over her chest.

“So, um...” She clears her throat again. “...what do you think? Where is everyone?”

He turns back to face her, his hand still gripping the railing. Gesturing for her to follow, he ambles down the ramp.

Elka throws her arms up when he’s out of her sight. Anyone with half a brain would know he’s being stranger than usual. He would normally shout at her to be dismissed. She even anticipated being thrown out of the treehouse if she really aggravated him, but with no other choice, she stomps after him.

“You know, that is a good question. Wondering where everyone is. Searching high and low for your comrades.” He glances over his shoulder at her as they make it down to the ground. “You did that, right?”

“Um, yeah. I couldn’t find anyone.” She shrugs as he looks over each of the cabins. “Oh, I checked there. I pretty much checked everywhere.”

“And you came to your superior officer for help. That’s exactly what a good Psychonaut would do when the mission goes south.” He bobs his head up and down, his jowls creasing. “You know, you’ve always shown promise, Doom. You’d be an Astral Warrior by now if you made time for some real training.”

Elka furrows her brows, her mouth creasing into a tight scowl. “Well, that came out of nowhere. Why are you-?”

He doesn’t look at her, continuing as if she hadn’t interjected. “You’ve been coming here for three years now, but you’re still a Psychic Scout. Cadets Love and Hedgemouse are two ranks higher than you, and you’re older than them.” He smirks, more of his mustard yellow teeth appearing in a crooked smirk. “Maybe if you paid more attention in Basic Braining, then you’d be something special.”

“Seriously, what brought this up? You’re just-” She waves her hand as if swatting a fly. “-I don’t know but whatever! If you’re not going to help me, then I’m leaving. I’ll find Nils by myself.”

Elka pivots on her heels and balls her hands into fists. She swings her arms, storming towards the bridge when Oleander calls out her name. Her eyes roll to the top of her skull, irritation spreading through her like a disease. Tossing her head back, she whirls herself around and crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing into venomous slits.

Oleander approaches her, his expression indiscernible. She glances him up and down, noticing a dark spot on his lapel. It’s a much deeper stain compared to the beige color of his uniform. She assumes it must be from coffee or marinara sauce from Chef Cruller’s leftover pasta they all had for dinner last night. Dark orange circles shadow underneath his eyes, reminding her of her father on the day they abandoned her at camp.

The coach she knows isn’t a slob. He might have halitosis, but he presents himself in an off-puttingly noble way. His clothes are always pressed and cleaned. When he eats, it’s never messily unless Sasha had agitated him enough into challenging Sasha to a telekinetic food fight. 

It strikes her all of a sudden that she’s never seen him appear so...unsettling, and the dull ache in the back of her mind grows.

“Looks like you’re right. There’s no one else here in the cabin area.” He gazes out to the bridge. “No one’s in the lodge or by the lake? Did you check the caves?”

“Uh, yeah! When I said I looked everywhere, what did you think I meant?” she shrieks, flailing her arms out, her fingers barely missing his chest.

He harrumphs, nodding along. “I guess the job is nearly done.”

She recoils. His words process in her mind in the span of a heartbeat. Lowering her hands, she fidgets with the hem of her pale green shirt. The breeze causes the hairs on her neck to rise. She draws in a slow breath and holds it, her mouth hanging open with nothing to say as Oleander shifts his weight on to his left leg.

“With you searching around for your fellow cadets, I guess Loboto’s pet missed you. I’m almost surprised she didn’t gobble you up with Nils.” He shrugs only for a flash of concern to pass by in his eyes, his hand reaching out for her shoulder. “Hey, are you…?”

The throbbing in the back of her head surges forth, and her eyes bulge in her skull. She grips her locks, pulling out a few strands as strange pictures prey upon her mind. The figure looms over her, his three-pronged claw reflecting her pale white complexion. His black lips twists in a cheek-splitting smirk like a monster she would see in a cheap horror movie, making her stomach churn with too much anxiety to bear. He raises it to her nose, spraying those greenish black particles at her, and she sneezes again and again until her head is hollow, weightless, empty without a single thought.

Oleander sighs, touching his brow. “It would’ve been easier if you didn’t snoop around. I expected that from Raz when he mentioned the U.P.E but not from you.” He grins and cocks his head. “I gotta admit, I’m impressed, soldier. That’s exactly the kind of brain power I need.”

“What do you-? Are you-?” She splutters, her head beginning to shake back and forth. Her breathing comes in shallow pants as Oleander raises his fist, his eyes narrowing on her, his voice emboldened by her fear.

“I’ve got big plans, Elka, and they involve every single one of you kids. You’ve all made at least some progress with your psychic training this summer. At this point, that’s the best I can ask for to power the tanks.” He steeples his fingers and advances on her, all traces of care and consideration swapping for palpable malice which makes the sweat beading on her brow trickle down her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll put that mind of yours to good work. You won’t have to worry about the future or Nils ever again.”

Elka doesn’t think twice when she bolts. She rushes past Oleander, swinging her arms wildly and nearly knocking him over. A cry rips out of her mouth as she dives into a cave, her feet smashing against upturned stones and fumbling over cracks. Her body lurches, her spine hunching as she tumbles deeper, and her knees skid against the coarse rock and cuts open. She doesn’t even feel the sting or the blood bubbling in the scratches as she comes to a sudden stop, her mouth slacking open and limbs going numb.

It’s a dead end. The blue refrigerator mocks her. Water slips in the cracks and follows down uneven paths past her shoes. Liquid drips down from the tiny stalactites and lands on her shoulders. The only exit is the way she came, and her knees buckle, her hands covering her mouth.

Thud.

_Oh, no, oh, no, oh no._

Thud. The rocks behind her shift.

_This seriously can’t be happening._

Thud. The cave trembles.

_Where are you, Nils? Are you okay?_

Thud, thud, thud. The ground quakes underneath her, but she forces herself to remain upright.

_Why’d I have to see Mom cheating instead of this?_

A shadow crosses over her, and she pleads under her breath. Every shake of her head causes her full hair to brush against her ruddy cheeks. Her breathing quickens, a hot stench permeating just above her, and she doesn’t want to look.

With no other option, Elka turns around, her movements mechanical with rusted joints and popping knees.

She can’t comprehend what she is staring at. It’s massive. Its’ cranium, if she can call it that, brushes against the stalactites and cracks a few of them off. She thinks its’ skin looks rubbery and unusually shiny as if it had emerged from the watery depths. With the thing’s maw wide open, she sees uneven, jagged teeth with ripped cloth and is that Elton’s sailor hat dangling on one of them?

Elka blinks once, twice, and then her body slowly falls backwards. A sigh slips out of her as her eyelids flutter. She collapses without incident, her head smacking against the refrigerator as the beast pounces.

Before she can fully embrace unconsciousness as the monster suctions something onto her foot, she wonders why she couldn’t see such a tragedy happening right in the heart of Whispering Rock.


	2. Chapter 2

Her ankle throbs as she sits in her bunk. Gnawing on her lower lip, Elka massages the swollen lump through the white bandages. She fidgets with the loose wrapping and tries pressing them onto her skin, but the adhesive is gone, threatening to unravel until they pull apart entirely.

Sighing, she slowly rips them off before they can do just that, grimacing as her skin is pinched by a particularly sticky area. She coils them into a thick ball and tosses the wad towards another bunk. _It can be someone else’s problem,_ she decides, shifting her weight onto her left leg and standing up. Pressing her foot onto the creaking floorboards, she’s relieved when only a dull ache nips her ankle. A slight limp accompanies her as she ambles out of the girls’ cabin, but she supposes it’s better than having a broken bone.

The day is like any other in Whispering Rock. The hot sun rays filter through the clouds, giving the sky a faded yellow tint. Sparrows chirp overhead, perching in tall branches or hopping along with the squirrels. Dandelion seeds flutter in the humid breeze, and she watches them twirl in the air, the voices of her fellow campers piping up around her.

Crystal skips out of the boys’ cabin, holding Clem’s hand and her luggage over her shoulder. Clem tucks his bag under his arm as they dart off towards the bridge. She catches him saying something about the campfire area not having enough room for everyone. It makes Elka raise her eyebrow, but she doesn’t have any need to hobble after them to ask what he means. 

She waves at Milka and Elton when they kiss and frolic past her. Milka wiggles her fingers in acknowledgement and tugs Elton along. He stumbles over his own feet, but she giggles, no traces of irritation to be found as she guides him across the bridge.

She knows exactly where everyone is heading. It’s a stark contrast to what had happened yesterday as she stands underneath the cool shade provided by the coach’s treehouse. Glancing around, she spots the cave she trapped herself in and shivers, the water still feeling like it was trickling down her shoulders, the beast’s breath giving the air an oppressive quality to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Shaking her head, she squeezes her eyes shut, counts to ten, and forces herself to march over to the bridge.

Although she’s glad Raz was able to prevent the coach’s scheme, her own encounter with Oleander left her unsettled. He had set her up to fail. The way he used her lack of prowess against her, how he cornered her when he was the only one who could help her find anyone, it makes her skin crawl even remembering his eerie, satisfied smirk conflicting with his disheveled, stained uniform.

Elka rubs the back of her head as she treks across the bridge. She pokes at the bump which had formed presumably when she was brainless and groans. A faint pain pulses when she touches it. Her head hitting that icy cold refrigerator when she fell unconscious had only been the cherry on top of a mortifying experience, one which keeps replaying in her mind. No matter how many scenarios she comes up with, she can’t escape Oleander’s cruelty and the sharp, stinking maw of that monster.

She fixes her hair over her bump and shudders from head to toe. Gripping the worn railing at the end of the bridge, she leans back when Kitty and Franke skip past her to the fireplace area head-in-hand. Kitty’s head snaps over to her, looks up and down, and a smirk stretches into her cheek. Elka can’t discern what had brought on that wicked look and feels her face boil when she whispers something to Franke, hurrying away as they cackle at the top of their lungs. Her heart squeezes, and she glares at the lodge, finding the spot where she and Nils had been reunited, recalling the warmth of his hand in hers.

It had been her one peaceful moment during that nightmare, but even that wasn’t meant to last. 

Elka had left him to go inside the lodge for some water. She promised that she would only be a couple minutes. The pain in her ankle had become too much to withstand when she peppered his face with kisses, but she couldn’t tell him that. She assumed her poor Nils would worry sick about her, so the lie proved much easier to make him believe. 

Maybe her trip to the storage closet for the bandages was taking too long because she came out to find him hitting on Phoebe. Her friend wasn’t interested, but Nils flirted with her so brazenly that Elka forgot how to speak. He even had his arm slung over Phoebe’s snare drum, his eyebrows rising up and down. When Phoebe threatened to burn him, Quentin interjecting about her promise to Milla, Nils winked and said she was “hot in all the right ways.”

She had felt like she had gone back in time. He was doing the exact same thing which caused her to break up with him at the start of camp. Having come full circle, Elka called him a pig, threw Vernon’s crayons in his face, and stormed out as best as she could with her injured ankle. Just when she thought they were going to be happy together and bond over their mutually horrifying experience, he ruined it. Acting like he wasn’t interested in her, promising to stay with her only if she didn’t talk, and going after girls who clearly didn’t want him, his actions cemented yesterday as the worst day of Elka’s life.

Nothing has changed for her. This summer has been one of going backwards. She started without Nils and ends without Nils. Instead of focusing on any real progress with her psychic training like Oleander said, she dabbled in a relationship with JT only for that to come to a crashing halt when she had found those cruel notes on the bulletin board. She keeps trying to tell herself that it wasn’t her fault yesterday. And yet, no matter which scenario she imagines, regardless of whether she was tossing and turning in bed or following behind her fellow campers down a paved dirt path, they all end with Oleander and that monster sneering down at her.

Her heart drops into her stomach as she comes out to the campfire. All of the good spots are taken, and her friends have not looked her way. Milka is still kissing Elton. Phoebe seems pretty interested in her conversation with Quentin. Crystal shows off a friendship bracelet she made for Clem, and he asks her to put it on him. 

She peers at the others, hoping to locate some stray opening only to find herself glaring a hole in the back of Nils’ head. He picks his nose and flicks a booger, causing Mikhail to visibly bristle. He says something in his native tongue, but Nils doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Elka knows exactly how Mikhail feels, remembering how she scolded him for his bad habit last year. He has two bad habits he refuses to fix, and she resists to urge to slap him when he glances at her, snorts, and turns away.

She flicks her head from side to side, quietly trailing behind the cadets only to swallow. There’s a spot between two campers in the back on a long oak log. As they laugh with each other, she has no choice but to walk towards them. Every step makes her body feel heavier like gravity is weighing down on her shoulders, forcing her to hunch forward. She feels like she’s towering over them when they notice her shadow covering them, one expression twisting in anger, the other looking more than confused.

“Um, hey,” she says, waving a little only for Chops to scoff.

“Uh, well, good mornin’,” JT replies, tipping his hat. His gaze shifts to the ground only to find her shoes somehow interesting. He gestures at her ankle. “Oh, uh, looks like you got a shiner there.”

She jerks her head down. Her swollen skin is on full display with her sock having wrinkled down to her shoe. Suddenly understanding why Kitty and Franke had laughed, Elka rubs her thumbs along her knuckles. “This? Oh, yeah, I got it when I was attacked by the monster,” she says, hopping in place, and her muscles tighten when she hits the ground. “It doesn’t hurt too badly. It just, you know, kinda stings.”

JT hums and nods, a slow dipping off his head. He fidgets with his hat, and Elka leers at Chops, watching him throw a hacky sack between his hands. He has the gall to start tapping his foot, which makes the corners of Elka’s lips crease into a tight frown.

“Do ya-” JT gestures at the space between him and Chops, which makes his friend’s eyes widen. “-wanna settle down? Don’t wanna stand too long on that there foot.”

“Oh! Um, yes.” She breathes out a sigh, thankful their conversation hadn’t been too awkward. She feels Chops’ glare on her as she sits between them and puts her hand to her cheek, blocking him out of her sight.

“Hey, Doom,” he says through gritted teeth, “Why aren’t you with Nils? Did you break up already?”

Wrinkling her nose, Elka snaps, “None of your business. Don’t be nosy.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” Chops tosses the hacky sack in the air and catches it, his fingers tightly curling around it. “Guess you can’t stay in one relationship for too long, eh?”

JT raises his hands. “Hey, hey, let’s-let’s all simmer down. The fightin’s over.”

 _Then why’d you two write those notes about me?_ Is what she wants to ask but keeps her mouth shut when she hears someone whistle behind her.

Milla waves at everyone as she comes down the path with Sasha and Ford. She and Ford smile at every camper, greeting them along their way to the stage. Sasha stamps out his cigarette right behind Elka. The urge to point it out comes and goes when she locks eyes with the final counselor trailing behind them, his hands rummaging in his pockets.

Oleander stares at her. His jaw slackens, and he stops in his tracks. Her breath hitches in her throat, and he seems to have stopped breathing as well. The other children slowly look back at him as if sensing his presence, their conversations hushing among them. Elka watches him swallow and stumble up to the stage, his gait uneasy, but when Raz nods at him, his own smile infectious, Oleander begins.

Elka cannot believe what she is hearing during the hour long presentation. As the projector shows various diagrams and elements from the battle in Raz and Oleander’s combined mindscape, she’s left in a state of disbelief. She keeps her eyes on him at all times and listens as his voice grows in strength, evidently encouraged to continue when no one interrupts him. He discusses his past, his childhood trauma, and too many failures in his life to count, and when he’s finished, numbness chills her to the bone.

His conversation with her rewinds and repeats in her head. The contrast between the cunning mastermind closing in on her and the sorrowful counselor clasping his hands together are polar opposites. She digs her fingernails into her knees, ignoring JT whispering to her, asking if she’s okay. She doesn't reply and claps along when Oleander welcomes Raz to the stage, his happiness making the color drain from her face.

 _Well, he deserves it,_ she thinks as Raz becomes a Psychonaut, his father grinning with such pride behind her that it makes her skin crawl. At least Bobby’s sniffling and subsequent shock gives her a good internal chuckle.

After Ford finishes a speech about the honor of the Psychonauts, Chops leaps to his feet. He leans behind her and touches JT’s shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she finds his smirk too wide for her liking as he says they should head over to the parking lot to kick around his hacky sack.

“Sounds like a mighty fine idea,” JT says, the other campers shuffling around them. He pushes off on his knees and rolls his shoulders back. He steps over the log and peers down at Elka while she pulls up her sock. “Uh, do ya need a hand?”

“What? She flicks her head up, blinking.

“I said-”

“Oh! Oh, no, no, no,” she replies, shaking her head. “Go kick around your grubby little hacky sack for all I care.”

“Got your head in the clouds, Miss Priss?” Chops asks, and she scowls at him, tugging her sock up as far as it would go over her patch of deep red skin.

“Butt out, _Melvin._ I wasn’t talking to you.”

“My name is Chops,” he snaps, and JT slings his arm around his shoulders, ushering him away.

She lets them leave. Like all the others, they make their way up to the main campgrounds. Her ankle throbs again, but instead of pain, all she feels is annoyance. It spreads from her leg to her heart, seeping into her bloodstream with every beat, and she digs her knuckles into the coarse oak as Nils calls out to Lili, asking if she wants to “hit up a real man.”

She doesn’t have the will to yell at him. Lili does it for her, clinging to Raz as they make their way over to his father. Elka listens to his retreating footsteps, seemingly too absorbed in himself to even cast her a pitiful glance.

Then, a shadow crosses over her. It’s round, almost rotund and blots out the sunlight. She blinks, frozen like a statue, her surroundings suddenly swapping out for the dark, damp cave. A sharp gasp rips free from her, the hulking form of the monster hovering above her, and she jerks her fist in front of her mouth.

“Cadet Doom,” Oleander says, his arms wrapped behind his back, “I, um, can I have a word with you?”

She shakes her head. The rocky cave morphs into a lush forest filled with pine and oak trees. Her legs press against the smooth splinters on the log. The birds sing and soar overhead, but as soon as she realizes that she’s not trapped, she narrows her glare onto Oleander, watching sweat form on his brow, and a nasty part of her wishes that a bird would come peck his other eye out. 

“‘A word?’ Seriously? You had plenty of words for me yesterday,” she spits out, her brows furrowing.

His smile fades by a molar. Oleander shifts his weight onto his right leg and lowers his voice. “I just want to talk for a couple of minutes but only if you’re comfortable with me.”

She crosses her ankles and grimaces. Rubbing the lump, she quickly scans the campfire area. It’s only her and the coach. The other counselors must have made their way up the path after the children. Ford chortles from somewhere distant, his laughter carried by the wind down to them until only the nearby buzzing bees fill the silence.

“I can leave you alone,” Oleander says, tugging at one of his medals. To Elka, instead of admirable, his medals now look like he had bought them all online. He tugs at his collar, adding, “Um, is everything okay? You, uh, usually aren’t by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she hisses, straightening her back and digging her fingernails into her palms.

Oleander hums, which reminds Elka of a strangled cat. He tugs on his gloves, twisting the leather between his fingers before clearing his throat. Without looking at her, he quickly shifts himself over the first log and sits down next to her, gazing straight ahead at the unlit campfire.

“Hey! I didn’t say I wanted to talk!” she shouts, leaning as far away as she could.

“You didn’t give an answer in a timely manner, soldier, so I made a decision for you,” he replies, shaking his head. “That’s what would be done on the mental battlefield. You know that.”

Elka twirls a thick strand of blonde hair around her finger. She supposes she didn’t give an answer, but it certainly did not give Oleander a reason to sit with her. Huffing out an exasperated sigh, she crosses her arms and legs, her sock rolling down again to reveal her swollen ankle, which catches Oleander’s attention when he gazes at her.

“How’d that happen?” he asks, pointing to it. “Why isn’t it wrapped it? It could-”

She waves her hand and says, “I had it wrapped up. The stupid bandages kept coming undone, and I ended up taking them off.” She rubs the lump, the skin rounded and raised.

He rubs his head through his helmet. “Oh, geez, sorry. Was it when Linda came after you?”

Chewing on the inside of her mouth, she picks up on that strange name and repeats it. When he tells her it’s the name of the monster, she forces herself not to laugh.

“If I had bandages, I’d fix your ankle. I may have gotten booted from the army, but I memorized all of their medical training. Just gotta keep it wrapped tight and stay off it for a few days so it can heal,” he says, and she isn’t sure if he’s lying, but she ends up nodding anyway. He fidgets around in his pocket and unfolds a neat leaf of paper. The creases take away from its glossy sheen. He smooths out the wrinkles, asking, “Do you remember what I told you yesterday?”

 _How could I forget?_ She rubs her forearms. “That I was pretty much useless?”

His eyes widen. “Did I say that?”

“Um, no, but you pretty much implied it,” she grumbles, glaring at the dirt. “You said I’ve been coming here for three years now, and I’m still a Psychic Scout. You said I should be paying more attention in Basic Braining.” Her voice hardens as she recalls what he said, his expression only becoming more malignant in her mind’s eye. “And you said I wouldn’t ever have to worry about Nils because I’d be in a stupid tank and-and-! Ugh!”

Elka throws her arms up, her elbow nicking his nose. Resisting the urge to try and firestart him is hard, but the pain in her head suppresses any usage of her psychic powers. She feels like she could scream at him for everything he said, but her throat constricts as if she’s choking, preventing her from uttering even a whimper. 

All she can do is glare at him, taking in how he fiddles with the paper. She breathes in deeply through her wrinkled nose. The aching in the back of her skull resumes, her outburst making her feel itchy all over like another premonition is coming her way, but she ignores it, believing it’ll be another useless tidbit about her terrible future.

“I...understand why you’re upset. I said and did a lot of horrible things yesterday,” he says, staring at the charred wood in the campfire.

She scoffs. “Oh, you think?”

“But I want to earn all of my cadets’ trust again, and I want to make it up to you first.” He offers her the paper. She rips it out of his hands quickly enough that it would have given him a paper cut if he hadn’t worn gloves.

As she reads it, her expression slowly changes from furious to confused. Her eyebrows rise to her hairline, and her mouth falls open. She traces the words with her finger to make sure they’re real. The glossy paper shines under the filtered sunlight, almost making it impossible to read on her third try, and she brings her gaze back to Oleander, who manages to smile at her.

“What-what is this?” she asks, pointing at the paper. “I don’t-I don’t understand. Is this, like, a bribe?”

“No,” he deadpans, his grin immediately dropping. He clears his throat. “With that drive you showed me yesterday, I know you’ve earned it.”

She reads the paper again for the fourth time, and on the fifth time, she says, “‘This certificate is in accordance with the PSI Cadet Promotion System. We at Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp are honored to bestow upon Elka Doom the title of Aura Wrangler for her…’” She trails off, and Oleander sets his hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch when he pats her, appearing to test how far he could go with physical contact.

“You’ve earned it,” he says again, nodding. “Like I said, you showed me your drive. You didn’t give up searching for your fellow cadets. You knew something was wrong, so you…” He clears his throat again, the irony of his statement not lost on them. “...so you came to your superior officer for help like any good Psychonaut would.”

She hasn’t been promoted in two years. The last letter she had received was when she was nine, when Nils had started attending Whispering Rock. She remembers showing off her Psychic Scout letter to him and earning a kiss on the cheek. Then, he paraded his “cool” girlfriend to some of the other boys, and when she turned around, he was trying to kiss Crystal, who didn’t seem any wiser to his antics in the present day.

The letter slips from her fingers and lands in a dead patch of grass. Oleander quickly bends forward and pinches it between his forefinger and thumb. He furrows his brow and holds it up for her, but Elka glares at her shaking hands, watching her skin redden around her knuckles.

“Elka, are you okay?” he quietly asks, raising his hand to touch her shoulder again.

“What kind of game are you playing with me?” she snarls, smacking the offending hand away.

Oleander recoils and tucks his hand to his chest. “Wha-? I was-”

“You’re bribing me, aren’t you? You wouldn’t give me that for real because you said I didn’t improve at all like Quentin and Phoebe! What actual reason do you have to make me an Aura Wrangler?” She shoots to her feet, her ankle seizing with pain, but she ignores it and clenches her jaw. “You don’t have one, so you thought you could say because I looked around a little yesterday means I had ‘motivation’ or something. Well, I don’t buy that trash!”

He tenses as she breathes in deeply, ending her shrill tirade. Her entire body shakes, and she wonders if she would fall over if she lost her balance for a second. If she could, she wishes she had the strength to run off and leave him in the dust, letting him stew in his own sorrow.

“No, that’s not it at all,” he replies, an even tone to his voice compared to the husky growl he used yesterday. Standing up, he smooths the certificate and adds, “The counselors and I decided on your promotion together. Milla said you’ve improved with your levitation training. Ford said your clairvoyance and telekinesis skills are even better than Bobby’s at this point. I-” He clears his throat. “What I mean is when I saw you yesterday, you impressed me.”

“Oh, really? And how did I do that? By jabbing you in the neck and scaring the hell out of you?”

Gasping, Oleander clutches his neck, and she winces. He had mentioned his trauma included his father butchering animals and that he could sense their agony. Apologizing feels right, but she keeps silent.

“I mean, you-you said what you said yesterday, and I bet that’s how you really feel,” she finally says, floundering as he continues rubbing his neck, folding his skin between his fingers. “Uh, can you stop that? It’s freaking me out.”

He grips his spotless lapel. Silence settles between them like an oppressive poisonous gas. Elka thinks about what to say, but she can’t find the right words. She lets him read the certificate to himself, her heart beating faster than before, and she almost expects that monster to appear behind him, bellowing before it suctions something on to her, then swallowing her whole.

A heavy sigh leaves Oleander, causing his shoulders to drop and head to bow. He taps the paper to his chest and says, “You know, I get it. I know why you feel like that. I was awful to say the least.” Holding out the certificate, he rolls his shoulders back and raises his head. “I know what I said yesterday is a complete change from what I’m saying today. What I believe about you and Raz and everyone else is a reversal from what I believed less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“Yeah, I get that Raz went into your mind and helped you,” she says, gripping her arm, “but that doesn’t explain why you wanna make me an Aura Wrangler. I mean, I’m not-”

“Because you’re dedicated,” he interjects and forces the certificate into her free hand. “You have dedication to any cause you believe in. If you wanna find your comrades, you look for ‘em. If you wanna be on time to class, then you’re setting your alarm before anyone else. You make sure you’re up and early every morning, and you never miss a single class. You don’t even ditch like another Aura Wrangler we know.” He utters a satisfied chuckle. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Even if you stumbled around this summer or I said things I shouldn’t have said, it doesn’t mean you haven’t improved at all. It’s all the subtleties, soldier.”

“‘Subtleties,’” she mumbles, “like what? All I did this time around was get dumped three times, twice by the same boy.”

“Erm, relationship problems aside,” he says, dismissing her statement entirely, which makes her frown, “Cadet Doom, I think with a little extra or specialized training, you could be an Astral Warrior by this time next year. All of you cadets improved even if it was only a little, and as your coach, that makes me so very, very proud.”

The genuine softness following his every word makes her stiffen. He’s smiling as if he truly believes in what he’s saying. He steps past her, patting her shoulder on his way out, and he hops over the log towards the path.

Elka runs her thumbs along the shimmering glossy sheet. She lets his words settle into her brain, her heart stopping its erratic rattling in her chest. Reading the certificate again provides a faint sense of bliss as if she had actually deserved her promotion, and the corners of her lips tug into a grin.

“Hey, Coach?” she calls only to falter, her eyes locking on to his back pocket.

“Yeah?” He cranes his head over his shoulder.

“Uh, two things,” she says, raising two fingers. “For starters, is that an All Paul CD you have there?”

He pivots on his heels and tugs his uniform down to cover it. As his expression burns a deep scarlet, he barks, “Hey! Their songs are upbeat, positive, and motivating with a spirited message for the masses! Don’t be judgmental!”

“I’m not saying they’re bad. I kind of like them, too. Sheesh!” She rolls her eyes, and Oleander grumbles, stuffing his fists into his pockets. “Secondly, um, thanks for the promotion, I think.”

He softens, his anger dispersing as soon as he senses the sincerity in her voice. “Don’t thank me. You really earned it, Elka.”

Her first real smile since arriving at camp presses into her high cheeks. For a moment, she doesn’t worry about the impending tragedy at home or what Nils will do next. If only for now, she can revel in her accomplishments and not think about what others might say or believe about her. She reads her ranking to herself and follows after Oleander, tapping her finger on the ranking she had been waiting to read for the past two years.

“Oh, hey, Coach, a third thing,” she says, catching up to him. At his confused grunt, she tilts her head and asks, “What about that creep with the shower cap and three-pronged claw? I mean, you two were working together. So, what’s his deal?”

“Uh, well…” He presses his knuckles to his mouth and sucks down a breath through his teeth. “...why don’t you let me and the others take care of him if he’s still around? You cadets don’t have to worry about that.”

Shrugging, Elka decides it really isn’t her problem. Even though there’s a spring in her step as she walks along with Oleander discussing All Paul’s upcoming tour, weariness mingles with relief in her chest. Yesterday had been one of the worst days of her life. It contaminated her spirit with such dread that she didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning. His words had filled up her empty head with uncertainty and terror, plaguing her with and without her brain, but as she holds the certificate, she almost feels like she can put yesterday behind her.

At least, it would be a start. Changing for the better can happen to anyone. It happened to the one who plotted to take over the world using her brain, so who could say that she couldn’t change? As she listens Oleander ramble on about the message behind All Paul’s hit ‘Drag Me Down,’ she thinks her future in Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp looks a little bit brighter.


End file.
